The King and the Bear
by theadroitleaf
Summary: After Sauron's defeat and the fall of Dol Guldor, the Elven King must rebuild his country and himself as he rekindles a friendship from long ago.
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, so I sort of ditched my first story because I didn't like where it as going and it wasn't really planned out, so I'm taking a bit of a different approach and playing out some ideas I had in my head about Thranduil and Beorn. They both seem like such feral beings but are very regal in their own ways and I thought exploring some history with them would be fun. Hope you enjoy! Reviews are always loved!**

Disclaimer: I own nothing in this world or its characters. This is purely fan fiction and should not be taken as anything but.

* * *

The night was navy blue with splashes of white clouds like rain drops in the dark. Golden lights could be seen twinkling about the forest and the crickets and frogs hummed from the shadows. Occasionally a wolf would howl or an owl would hunt from the tree tops. A haze of smoke was still hanging about the forest from the south yet the air in the north remained fairly clean.

From the Elven Kings chambers he could see it all...well, if not for his butler hanging about him.

"Galion! _Daro!_ I told you for the last time that my leg is fine. Go find an _elleth_ to bother and leave me in peace!" he shouted irritated. Roughly six months after the war was done and his leg had simply not healed, nor had his _fea._

 _"_ My lord, please," Galion protested, "your wounds are not healing quickly enough, I fear infection and you refuse to go to the healers. At least let me look."

Thranduil felt bad for his rudeness but there was nothing Galion could do. His leg wound was caused by an orc danger to the thigh which had thankfully avoided major nerves and arteries; however, it was deep and his elven healing was damaged from the power he and spent to destroy Dol Guldor once and for all.

Even so, Galion unwrapped the bandage and gasped at what he saw. The wound was freshly bleeding from torn stitches and seemed to be festering slightly. The king took in a sharp breath and rolled his eyes, but gave in to Galion's administrations none the less as he gingerly removed the bandages he had discovered under the deerskin leggings. It was not the material made for kings, but Thranduil would not waste silks due to his wound.

"What were you doing to tear the stitching?"

"I was walking," he answered shortly.

"In the forest? Just walking?"

"From the throne room to here. Limping," he admitted.

Galion looked shocked. This should have been healing in weeks, not months and at this rate it might be a year.

"My lord I am calling the healers!," Galion almost begged.

"No!" the butlers eyes opened wide. "Please Galion. You have always been a friend to me. You must understand no one can know."

"Can't know what? You could die from this if it is not properly cared for. There must be a poison at work here."

Thranduil looked old. He looked down and sighed wearily, "I was damaged in the war, Galion. My _fea_ was, more than ever before. Dol Guldor was too much for me I fear, even with Galadriel's help. Just give me one more day and Galadriel and Celeborn will be here. Hopefully, Beorn as well. I would rather have them help me then have rumors spread about the court of my...weakness," he said softly. To Galion, it seemed the stars were tears in his eyes. The king he knew would never admit to such a weakness. He was strong even when his body was not so.

"Very well," he gave in, "I will do as you say"

 _"Hanon le"_

 _Galion_ left the room and Thranduil sighed and adjusted his bandages, grinding his teeth. He had been sitting on the balcony, hoping to feel his power return to him, to catch a glimpse of the forest beyond. Maybe even to the wilds where his son now travelled, but he stood in an oblivion. As he closed his eyes to gaze into the beyond he saw nothing but darkness, and felt nothing but a cold wind. When he opened his eyes his head pounded in sync with his leg. He could feel Legolas reach out to his mind at times, and he felt Beorn search for his _fea_ in the forest, but in both cases he could not call back to them. he felt utterly human. But his peace was found in Yavanna. Her presence had returned to the whole forest and she spoke to him in hidden ways as she always had. For this, he could find rest.

 _His heart pounded with the rhythm of his legs on the solid ground, the grass shifted beneath his feet and his arms swinging in steady motions. His eyes remained forward and focus darted from grass to tree root. Behind him an enormous bear bounded, teeth snarling, tongue wagging. The bear reached out a large paw and swiped the elf aside with ease, then placing it on his chest. The elf looked up with bright blue eyes wide and breath even heavier than before. Slowly, that paw turning into a hand, and the bear turned into a man._

 _"Oropherion, you have grown slow." the bear man growled and slapped his face as one might a naughty child, "You have grown slow in your grief and self pity,"_

 _"Should i not be grieving,?" the elven king asked, still panting._

 _"You should be growing stronger. The shadow will not stop destroying what you love, Oropherion," chided the half-man._

 _"Tell me, what do I love that has not been taken from me!,"yelled the king. Beorn released his hold on the elf and looked across the meadow. Their keen eyes could see a small blonde child chasing a fox in a garden laughing as it pounced at his feet._

 _"You have him, you have your people. I will not protect you for much longer. You must grow strong again," with that the bear-man stalked off to join the child and the elf did not follow. The child smiled as he saw the man approach and held the fox to him in triumph. He patted his head and sat in the flowers with him pulling out a carving of a deer from his pouch. The child looked at it in amazement with wide eyes then dance around some more and his laughter was like the stars in the sky._


	2. Chapter 2

The morning began with the singing of traveling tunes for the Lorien company. While the lord and lady of the land did not participate in the singing, they looked fondly on the scene as if watching ones child spring from tree to rock, dancing in song. They approached the halls of Eryn Lasgalen at midday and by the looks of it, their arrival had been expected, much to Galadriel's surprise.

While she had sent message to the King, she had heard nothing back from him and feared the worst. When she explained her worries to her husband he simply shrugged and the matter was forgotten.

The Palace was arranged in separate pieces due to the raging river which divided it from the rest of the forest. The stables (newly rebuilt) were just before the river as horses and large caravans could not fit across the bridge, much less into the throne room presented directly behind the doors. Here the Lord and Lady as well as their personal gaurd deviated across the bridge. The main feasting "halls" lay west of the Palace where most of the surviving villages still remained standing. Since the fall of Dol Guldor, houses and living spaces were the main priority for the Silvans. They built both on the ground and in trees amongst the beeches and invented them in such a way that walls could be set up for storm or lifted for sunny days. A main market square was in between the stables and living communities. While less impressive than Lorien, the travelers had to admit that the city was impressive in size and architecture.

As Galadriel grew close, the grand doors opened into an extensive cavern of living stone. Past the winding pathway a throne sat above the main hall surrounded with waterfalls and streams of light, yet no figure sat upon it. As she moved, she noticed the eyes of the guards remained focused; a new experienced for her.

 _'Surely they must be a trained army indeed to not be distracted by the Lady of Light,'_ Celeborn reached out to her, sensing her thoughts.

 _'The prince did not boast it seems'_ she laughed.

Not even the ears of a fox could have detected the Elven Kings arrival as he walked soundlessly down the stairs behind the throne. He was dressed in a cobalt robe which shimmered like a river. He wore a simple silver crown with flowers tangled in it and his hair.

"Welcome, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn. Your arrival has been much anticipated. I pray your travels have not been difficult".

"Not troublesome at all, Lord Thranduil," replied Celeborn.

"I'm glad," Thranduil smiled slightly, if it could be called a smile, then abrubtly turned around and motioned for them to follow, "If you are feeling so good then why don't we get to business. Your stay is short and we have much to talk about,"

Most rulers would have felt slighted by the gesture but the rulers of Lorien were used to the Kings behavior. He was blunt and always honest to a fault. His efficiency was enviable and he could breeze through meetings faster than any. Most guests, though there were few, found that there five week diplomacy meeting turned into a four week vacation.

The path they were led went up many stair cases and to the far back of the Palace where the royal chambers were built by a small opening in the cave. The top of the mountain was a place were the king could look upon all that he owned from the balcony of his study. The study itself contained a large oak desk with a mess of papers and books covering the majority of it. Shelves made up the majority of the walls where windows were not placed, and couches and wine tables were in a square in the middle. Several tapestries of Mirkwood's history were on the walls not covered by shelves. A painting was in an alcove of the wall containing a couch. Thranduil was in the picture as was a beautiful _elleth_ with auburn hair and a small child with bright eyes and hair.

"Please sit," the king gestured to the couches as he poured three glasses of wine. _Dorwinion_ no doubt. "My understanding of this meeting is it regards the southern portion of the forest, that which was claimed by the dark lord for sometime...Am i correct so far?"

Celeborn nodded.

"...Your alliance was greatly appreciated in the war. My armies could not have survived on their own, and I shall not let your kindness go without reward. Tell me what you desire and you shall have it."

"Thranduil we do not ask for gold or riches from those who cannot give it," Celeborn started. Thranduil's eyes flashed with anger and hurt pride, "-not that we do not-...we know of the destruction Sauron brought upon this land. We have seen it. We would not take what cannot be given,".

"Then what shall you take?" Thranduil implored, fingering his glass.

"I offer you a proposal: In return for nothing else, the southern half of the wood, below you paths, we would take as a new settlement for our people," There was a pause in the room. Celeborn grew a bit nervous. Land was not a cheap price and the King was proud of what he owned. But he looked in his eyes and saw weariness as he exhaled and-

"Very well! It is done,"

"Done?"

"Yes. We can talk details in the days to come, but for now I expect you would like a rest. Galion will see that you are shown to your rooms; I hope you find them agreeable." He knocked on a second door to the room. Celeborn was indeed tired and thankfully Galion entered through the door and bowed.

"My lord?," the butler asked.

"Ah Galion! Show the Lord and Lady to their chambers. See to their needs as you would mine,"

"Of course, my lord," bowing to Celeborn and Galadriel he said, "please follow me."

Celeborn left but Galadriel remained, Galion did not seem to notice her absence, but Thranduil did notice her presence.

"There is more on your mind," she said.

"There is a lot on my mind. Be more specific," he answered curtly.

"You worry for your son," Thranduil nodded, "He is within three days of here. You worry of your people, secondly. They are strong and will survive. And you worry for the approaching clouds. You are unsure of a storms approach and I feel it will be a great one indeed."

Thranduil sighed at the last one. The air was thicker than usual and there was a tension that sent birds circling was when a storm comes, but he knew Galadriel was slowly prying for something bigger. This time, he was not going to resist her prodding.

"You are unable to sense these things and you are afraid of your own weakness," she concluded. He nodded and her face looked nothing short of astonished at his compliance.

"It is true, my lady. I fear the injuries I took in the war have blinded my of any small power i possessed. I am blind to the comings and goings of my kingdom and can not see beyond what my eyes and ears can. My leg is not healed in the slightest as it was bleeding just last night. I fear the worst, my lady."

"Who knows of this?"

"Just Galion I believe,"

"You don't trust your healer?" she said with a smile.

"Unfortunately, not with this..."

"I am afraid there isn't much they can do...I will see what I can do for you tomorrow,"

"Thank you, my lady," he said with a shy but genuine smile.

The wind picked up and blew with it drops of rain which hit the balcony. He raced to the window and closed the shutters and curtains while Galadriel picked up papers which had blown off the desk. A crack of thunder rumbled through the halls of the whole palace: the unfortunate part of living in a monstrous cave. When Thranduil turned around he discovered the lady was gone from the room and laughed at her aloofness. When nobles and kings were present the two were very formal; however neither of them particularly liked formalities. She as admittedly weird and he was blunt and had issues with authority. Together, they were as relaxed as two leaders could be with each other.

The king left the study for his bed chambers connected to his study. _Three days..._ he thought _three days and then maybe I can get some sleep_

 _A plate of berries and rabbit meat was before the elf but it was untouched. The bones in his ribs showed and still it was untouched. The bear man looked at him with disgust and chided him across the face as one would a child. The elf looked up at him blankly with dead eyes. "Eat" the bear growled._

 _"I cannot" the king replied_

 _"You have a body, you can"  
_

 _"I have a body, but no soul. I am but a shell. You need not feed a shell," said the king._

 _"Then you must find your soul," said the bear._

 _"It was taken from me. It no longer lives"_

 _"Then you must find a new one"_

 _A child's sleeping form arose from a pile of blankets and a bed of straw. The fox awoke with him and licked his nose and the child held the fox close singing to it gently._

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 **The next chapter will feature Beorn and Legolas...I hope you enjoy!**


	3. Chapter 3

The storm was a large one. Many trees had fallen in the winds and the river was dancing energetically. Pools of water seemed to bother the local merchants since it left the their market square soggy and unpleasant. A welcoming feast was being planned five days from the present to welcome the party from Lothlorien and the prince's return causing traders to hurry to Dale to gather rare cheeses in turn for wine, and a the main clearing in the forest was being decorated for the occasion. Musicians and bards were struggling to write new music to commemorate their victory and honor their king and prince. Other than that, life in the Greenwood was falling back into its rhythm. The days of peace for the elves were measureless and the night was no different than the day, and the days were no different than the years.

Two days later, the prince was sighted near the edges of the forest where a few villages spread. Already rumors were flying about involving the return of Beleg Cuthalion, or that the prince returned scared upon the face by war, and also a giant bear that haunted the forest at night. The king could believe the bear to be Beorn (Legolas must have travelled with him after crossing paths), the others he would judge for himself. It was after hearing the third of these rumors that the king grew impatient deciding to meet the pair on the forest path. He gathered the kings guard which consisted of six highly trained warriors all dressed in fine armor of dark green and silver embroidery. Six white horses where their steeds, along with an extra black horse which stood high above the rest, and of course the kings elk.

The ride was refreshing for the most part, despite Thranduil's hurting leg. The air was particularly fresh that morning and he could see his people moving about the forest cleaning up after the storm. The progress the elves had made in repairing the forest was incredible and if not for the new sprouts of forest brush and saplings, one might have believed the city had looked this way for hundreds of years. Seeing the forest made him upset that he did not walk amongst his people more often; perhaps this peace would relieve him of some duties...

The forest river roughly followed the Enchanted River, gradually becoming denser and denser the farther it drifted from the Woodland Halls. Here, little sunlight could break through the trees and the forest seemed to be an eternal twilight where fireflies danced and the pale eerie glow from the river illuminated the darkness of the woods. It was said by many legends of men that the spirits of lost travelers could be seen along the river as well as the elves who died in the forest. Most elves dismissed the none sense of men, but Thranduil knew them to be true. Even with his depleted _fea_ he could see the ghostly visions of small children playing along the river band, and old men sitting on logs staring into the river. They were not ghosts, rather the memories the spirits of the forest held onto. The trees were funny in that way. They had emotions that Thranduil could not understand. They acted in ways that the king of the forest had no explanation for. Right now, the trees were swaying nostalgically, lost in themselves, and stuck in the past. It was strange.

 _Legolas will understand,_ he thought. The prince was born of both Silvan and Sindarin blood giving him both the powers of Thingol's ancestry and the Silvan understanding with the forest. As a child, Thranduil feared that his child was born a mute, for he never seemed to talk even at age twenty. He would laugh under the trees and explore them like a squirrel. One day, Thranduil found him crying after a wild fire was happening in the south. It was then that he realized the true powers his son had with the forest to be able to talk to the trees leagues away. When Legolas was about two-hundred, he journeyed with his father to Erebor on trade negotiations. It was nearly disaster as the young prince grew incredibly anxious from being in the mannish city surrounded by stone. When they returned, the prince slept outside in a tree outside his room for the next four and a half months.

The king chuckled at the memory.

They had been riding for the better part of the day and evening was soon approaching and the darkness of the forest grew even darker, still no sign of Beorn or Legolas.

"Do not despair," said one of the guards, "this journey is a day on horse back, but over two on foot. The storm must have set them back a few days."

"And look!" said another, "there is smoke among the trees a half a league away. Perhaps they camped for the night. "

The spot the elf pointed to was slightly north of the trail so the king ushered them on until the forest grew too dense for horse to travel. At this point, he bid the guard to stay with the horses as somewhat of an excuse. In truth, he wished to see Legolas alone where he did not have to be a king.

The embers of the fire seemed to have been put out for sometime. He looked up in the trees above and saw an extra tunic drying on a tree branch (obviously elven make) and some broken arrows. He look around some more but did not see anyone in sight. Noticing that most of his supplies were gone, but the sight not completely abandoned, he headed for the river knowing that his son was either hunting or collecting water for the coming journey.

This river was not the enchanted river but a small stream from the larger river which was safe to drink from for the most part. Fifty feet from the river he saw him. His hair had grown very long in the past years, now reaching to his waist. His skin was tan in contrast to golden hair, and he was leaner than the king remember. As he got closer, Legolas whipped around, detecting the noise. He reached about almost blindly, bringing Thranduil closer with one arm around the back of the neck, then using his calf to strike against his leg, bringing the King to the ground. As he did so, his eyes grew wide with recognition. Thranduil, prepared for the attack, laughed on the ground at his son's startled actions.

" _Adar!_ " he exclaimed brushing loose strands of hair from his face and pulling the king to his feet. They embraced, and the king could not help but feel the ribs protruding from the young elf's side. And yet when he looked in his eyes he saw a new strength and hope in him, mixed with the sorrow of a warrior. He had changed.

"Why did you come?" Legolas asked quizzically.

"I grew impatient," was his answer. He avoided telling his son about his ailments just yet. He was sure Legolas had sent message of his whereabouts through the trees but it did not seem that he had noticed his messages did not come through.

"I hear a great bear travels with you, _penneth,"_

Legolas rolled his eyes, "Do people really not recognize Beorn? He fought at the battle of five armies and yet people insist on creating these rumors," he thought for a moment, "what other rumors have spread about my return?"

"They say your face is scarred from war," the king said, trailing a finger around an old cut reaching from his brow bone to underneath his cheek bone.

"I ran into a pack of orcs on the borders of the forest. I was careless and outnumbered. Beorn found me in the fight. I guess he was tracking the orcs on his way."

"Orcs? From where?" the king exclaimed nervously.

"I thought you would have known about them?" Legolas searched his eyes for answers but if he found something he did not disclose it, "They must have been strays from Mordor or Isenguard. Aragorn and I found quite a few residing in Ithilien..."

"Enough talk of war. You are safe and that is what matters. Let us go back to your camp and return home. We brought an extra horse for you and I am sure Beorn can keep up."

"Actually he wanted to arrive on his own. He said he had business to take care of but would not say what."

"I trust his judgement," the king nodded and turned around motioning for Legolas to follow.

* * *

 **Here's where I will end for today. Thank you for the reviews and I hope to have the next chapter up by Sunday. This week is homecoming so life gets a little crazy. Coming up I will have more of an explanation for Beorn's private mission as well as Legolas discovering the truth about his father. Galadriel and Celeborn will make appearances again soon (maybe an OC?)**


	4. Chapter 4

Both the night and the king's halls rose before the travelers in a welcoming curtain of warm glowing lights and a blanket of the night sky. From atop his horse, Legolas's body relaxed with a sigh, "It is good to be back..."

"It is good to have you back _ion,_ " replied the King. Already the gates were being opened and a horn sounded at the arrival of the Royal company. As they travelled through the gates, horses left at the start of the bridge, near by elves stared at the arrival of the prince whispering to themselves. Their glances made Legolas uncomfortable. While he was loved by the kingdom, he knew they judged him differently now. He was a war hero and by morning stories would reach him of the rumors said about his travels. Thranduil looked over at him as they walked towards the throne room.

"What troubles you?" he said solemnly, barely moving his lips.

"They stare," was all Legolas said.

"You return to them from the dead baring a bow from distant lands and your face and hands carry new burdens, yet your eyes are light as the morning sun. Do not judge curiosity."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it..." replied the prince. He kept his eyes forward and head tall as he was trained since childhood, but his pace quickened as he came closer and closer to solitude...and a bath. O Elbereth did he want a bath!

In the royal chambers Legolas found a welcome presence. It was Galion quietly setting wine glasses and clean linens on a sofa, but his activities were interrupted as he jumped back in surprise at the sound of the closing door, spilling drops of wine on the sofa. At the sight of Legolas his eyes widened, and Legolas grinned.

"Be glad I'm not my father. He'd have you fired for wasting good wine," joked the prince.

"Be glad I'm not your father. He'd have you punished for causing the spilt wine," retorted the Butler.

The two stared at one another, then broke into laughter. Legolas felt a tear in his cheek and felt the warmth of blood oozing slowly from the cut on his face. He grimaced and saw Galion looking at him pityingly.

"It's fine, just a scratch," he said quickly.

"Might I ask from what?"

Legolas walked across the room to a cabinet containing basic medicinal supplies, "Orcs, along the border, left overs from the war I suppose. Beorn came to my aid thankfully and the fight was over quickly...," his brow furrowed as he pressed a cloth to his face, "I am surprised patrols were not placed on the borders. Usually the king sends orders when he senses approaching orcs, are there no troops to spare?"

"..There are," Galion became uncomfortable, Legolas could tell, "We just couldn't spare the troops at this moment when shelter's need to be rebuilt and food hunted."

"Galion!" Legolas grabbed the butler by the lapels, "you're a terrible liar. The truth, now!"

Torn between disobeying his king or being put into a series of arm and leg bars Galion could barely even think to imagine, he remained frozen in fear. The butler's savior was another unexpected door closing.

"Legolas Greenleaf what is the meaning of this!" exclaimed a familiar exasperated cry of Celeborn. Legolas turned with icy eyes but did not release his grip on the butler.

"Leave." Legolas said with a feral look that Celeborn knew all too well. He had seen it on many warriors who had been at war far too long.

"Your quarrel is not with Galion, Legolas, spare him."

Slowly Legolas released him and discovered his hands shaking terribly. Between his tremors and blood spilling down his face, he looked quite terrifying.

"Tell me." Legolas pleaded and his face turned to concern and loyalty. Celeborn took his hands and pulled him gently to sit on the sofa. He was reminded of the prince's arrival in Lorien: his was face was bloodied and bruised as it was now, and his mouth was spewing out Silvan faster than Celeborn could understand, hands shaking and tears beginning to fall. Scared. The prince was scared then because he thought he was loosing. He was scared now because he thought he had lost.

" _Penneth_ your father was hurt during Sauron's demise. He has not since recovered and the Lady Galadriel is doing all in her power to help." Legolas still trembled, "Be at peace in the knowledge that the darkness is gone. You saw it leave," he looked at the prince and smiled, "A bath would do you some good."

The Lord beckoned to Galion to ready the bath water. A few minutes later, Legolas found himself led to the private bathing pools by several young _ellons_. It was a steamy room made from natural hot springs and water falls creating a shower of warm water. Various perfumes had been added to the water used to calm nerves and heal wounds. Peppermint, lemon grass, and lilac. The _ellons_ marveled at the prince. They must have been new to the castle for he had never met them before. The oldest must have been fifty which was still young by elven standards. They stood towards the corner of the room unsure of whether to leave or not. Legolas continued as if they were not there and began to undress, reveling the semi healed scares that his travels with the fellowship had left. An arrow wound on the shoulder from Moria, a deep gash from Helm's Deep, a black scare from a poisoned blade at the Black Gates...he looked over at the young elves who were wide eyed.

"You are dismissed," he said to them.

"Yes m'lord," one said, while another slapped him atop the head whispering _its your_ highness _you half-wit!_ Legolas smiled.

The two left the room but one remained. He was smaller and had dark hair and freckled skin. His eyes reminded him of someone he had met before.

"What is your name?" asked Legolas.

"Mirdan Silorion, your highness." replied the boy.

"Silor is your father?"

"Was, my prince. My parents died in the war."

"I did not know he had a son. Your father was an excellent warrior and his _fea_ was strong and kind. I am sorry for your loss, Mirdan," Legolas apologized. He did not know Silor well, but he was a good wood elf whom he had been responsible for. He was in one of the first battalion's Legolas had been captain of, and he had lost connections with him after he was promoted to the kings guard.

"He spoke of you, my lord" interjected the child, "After my mother died he said that your mother died as well in the war. He said I could be strong like you one day, and my grief of her loss would fade and I could be happy again."

"My mother did die," Legolas's face looked pained, "her loss has not faded, but it is a burden I have learned to live with. I rest knowing she is in the Halls of Mandos and that she will not see the suffering of Arda. Tell me how you came to live here, Mirdan."

"The King brought me here after my village was burned." Legolas knelt by the child and looked him in the eyes.

"Should you ever need anything, i promise, Mirdan, I am at your service. Is there anything you require at this moment?"

Mirdan fidgeted and shuffled back and forth biting his lip, "Perhaps you could tell me a story from your adventures...?" he asked bashfully.

Legolas laughed gently, "Perhaps another time is more apt," he pointed to his face, "right now I am in desperate need of a bath, wouldn't you agree?"

Mirdan smiled and bowed before darting out of the bath chambers and Legolas was finally alone.

 _"What is up there?" the child asked the bear._

 _"Those are the stars," replied the bear._

 _"But what is a star,_ _truly?" pressed the child._

 _"A star? It holds the light of those across the sea," answered the bear._

 _"Is my mother a star?"wondered the child._

 _"I suppose she is," said the bear._

 _The fox jumped on the child lap and curled into his chest. The child's eyes became the stars in the night sky, glimmering and sparkling._


End file.
